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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750462">I'm Burning Up for You, Baby</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincessem/pseuds/spaceprincessem'>spaceprincessem</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Derek, Canon-Typical Violence, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mates, Pack Feels, Pack Mom Stiles, Protective Derek, slight angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:48:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,683</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25750462</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceprincessem/pseuds/spaceprincessem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>So, Stiles was being good. He was staying out of trouble, letting his body rest and trusting that his pack could deal with the threat on their own. Of course, it was just Stiles’ stupid fucking luck that he would get kidnapped anyways. Really, it wasn’t his fault this time! The supernatural was just unfair! It was like they were moths and he was a giant fucking neon sign that read “Hey, I’m Human Kidnap Me Please!”</p>
<p>Ugh, what was his life?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale &amp; Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1124</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I'm Burning Up for You, Baby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Stiles hadn’t really understood when it happened, it just </span>
  <em>
    <span>happened</span>
  </em>
  <span>. There were plenty of weird things that occurred in his young life, all stemming from his best friend’s induction into the supernatural a few years ago. Since then he had collected more scars - both physical and emotional - than he’d ever thought possible. He was basically a diamond member at their local hospital - no, really, he was privileged to the softest blankets and best food at this point - and he had done so much damn research on mythical creatures, their own Bestiary in the works, that he could definitely teach a college level course on this shit. Somewhere along the way, through the torture, the tears, the terrifyingly long nights chasing the bad guys, they had built their pack, their family. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Stiles and Derek had found each other. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In a way it felt like a long time coming. Stiles had always known who Derek Hale was, knew his story, and had somehow felt strangely connected to the older man. They had both known loss and despite the way they collided in the preserve those years ago Derek had been a constant in Stiles’ mind, a puzzle he wanted to solve. It wasn’t until they were saving each other’s lives, trusting each other in ways he never thought possible, seeing each other at their worst did Stiles realize how much he needed - </span>
  <em>
    <span>wanted </span>
  </em>
  <span>- Derek in his life forever. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Stiles was stuck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stuck in gravity. Stuck in no man’s land. Hovering in the space between them because their lives were anything, but easy, and one wrong step could send them both on a collision course that could only end in flames. So when the mounting tensions between them erupted Stiles had thought, this is it, this is the end. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Except it wasn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because, apparently, Derek wanted him too. And despite his past betrayals, his trust issues, his deep rooted self hatred, Derek had somehow found the courage to love Stiles anyway. And god, Stiles loved him back with every fiber of his being. Slowly, Derek let himself be loved and their pack grew closer, stronger together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, and there was the whole mate thing as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But really, Stiles didn’t mind one bit. It was somewhere between their first kiss and when Derek had casually - yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>casually</span>
  </em>
  <span> - dropped that Stiles was more than just his boyfriend, he was his mate, did Stiles realize he had become the fucking mom of the pack. He supposed it made sense, since Derek was the alpha which, by all accounts, made him the “pack dad”. The pack were his closest friends, his family, so of course Stiles wanted to take care of them and make sure they were alright. He wasn’t much of a fighter - sure, he had his baseball bat and a mean swing, but he was much better at negotiating and planning - so he used his brain and his kindness to keep them together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In his spare time he had learned from Deaton how to take care of nasty wounds that healed slower or poisons that inhibited super werewolf powers. He took care of them when they were injured, cheered them up when they were down, hell he even cooked for them after long days of training. That had surprised them more than anything. Scott was the only one not shocked by his beautiful breakfast spread the wolves had walked into one morning after their run in the preserve. He would have been offended, but their sinful moans and murmurs of thanks for the food were enough of an apology at doubting his cooking abilities (especially Derek’s thank you, which was given in the privacy of their bedroom thank you very much). He held study nights and looked over their essays to make sure everyone was keeping their grades up and submitting the best college resumes to further their education. Derek made sure they were safe, protected. Stiles made sure they were cared for, loved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So when Stiles inevitably came down with a terrible case of the flu - </span>
  <em>
    <span>stupid werewolves and their stupid virus combating capabilities</span>
  </em>
  <span> - did he let the pack take care of him in return. The flu started out, like these things normally did, by Stiles waking up one morning not feeling the best. He just chucked it up to terrible sleep and the recent stress of the new threat looming over the town. A little ache in his limbs and sluggishness in his brain wasn’t enough to stop him from diving head first into research. That’s what coffee was for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You smell funny.” Derek said as he scrunched up his nose, placing a new mug of steaming caffeine down on the desk Stiles was working at.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just showered!” Stiles scoffed as he looked up from the book he currently had his nose in, his head feeling slightly woozy from the movement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek just rolled his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There is a bad case of the flu going around.” Lydia said from the couch as she flipped the page of her book without looking up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles turned in his chair so quickly Derek had to steady him before he fell out. He pointed an accusing finger in the red head’s direction. “You shut your mouth, I do not have the flu!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Allison has the flu.” Isaac chirped in unhelpfully, frowning slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Stiles as he crossed his arms over his chest, “and I made sure </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> delivered her homemade soup so that </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>wouldn’t get sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt Derek’s arms wrap around him, nose nuzzling into his neck, stubble rubbing against his skin. “Still smell funny.” He murmured as if he was trying to cover up whatever he was smelling with his own scent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whatever.” Stiles muttered as he turned back to his book. “I am not getting sick and I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do not</span>
  </em>
  <span> have the flu!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles most definitely had the flu. The past few days he had spent longer in the bathroom than anywhere else in the loft. Move over, Scott, this beautiful grey porcelain toilet was his new best friend. He appreciated the pack’s attempt at cooking him food, but Stiles could barely keep anything down and they had just resorted to keeping his favorite flavor of gatorade on hand. For something so common the flu could be the actual worst. Stiles ached all over, head pounding like a never ending drum, stomach cramping tightly, throat burning, and my god was he hot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All. The. Time.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t even cuddle with Derek because the alpha was like a walking space heater and Stiles would absolutely melt if he let his boyfriend hold him longer than five seconds. It was miserable, but the pack was trying and even in his weakened state he tried to thank them as much as possible. When it finally came to the pack having to deal with the coven witch problem - which, Stiles had discovered was the newest threat before he had succumbed to his sickness - Stiles gracefully allowed the pack to handle it without argument. He knew he was in no shape to leave the loft, let alone fight a coven of witches with his bat. He merely pointed to the most helpful book and promptly fell asleep on the couch while the pack laid out a plan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he woke up it was in Derek’s arms, the latter carrying him to the bed while the rest of the wolves got ready to go. The alpha gently laid him in the sheets, giving him a quick kiss on his sweaty forehead before saying they would be back soon.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm love you, Sourwolf.” Stiles said into the pillow, but he caught Derek’s lips curling up in the corners, which meant he loved Stiles too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, Stiles was being good. He was staying out of trouble, letting his body rest and trusting that his pack could deal with the threat on their own. Of course, it was just Stiles’ stupid fucking luck that he would get kidnapped anyways. Really, it wasn’t his fault this time! The supernatural was just unfair! It was like they were moths and he was a giant fucking neon sign that read “Hey, I’m Human Kidnap Me Please!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Ugh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, what was his life?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had just come out of his third cold shower - cause </span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus</span>
  </em>
  <span> he was just so fucking hot and sweaty - and had Melissa’s name pulled up on his phone. He had put off going to the hospital for the past two days, but now he was starting to rethink that. He needed fluids or he was going to die of dehydration. He could hear the outgoing dial tone when he felt something hit him in the back of the head. He was fucking sick! It wasn’t necessary! The stupid witch could have just grabbed him by the hand and he probably would have just accepted his fate without question. At least he was wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Also, he was like ninety percent sure he puked on the witch as she carried him out of the loft. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Serves her right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although, it probably explained why the ropes around his wrist were a little too tight as they were held over his head, secured to one of the rafters in whatever stupid barn she had taken him to. He could feel hay poking into his bare feet, the ground cold and dusted with a light coating of snow that had drifted in from the broken windows behind him. When he finally came around from unconsciousness he noticed a stool with a large metal bucket perched next to him. How nice of her. At this point Stiles was just dry heaving, but, hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know you didn’t need to knock me unconscious, right?” Stiles asked, his voice hoarse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pounding in his head was now so much worse and he could feel dried blood caked in his hair. Great. Just fucking great. He was extremely dizzy and despite still feeling hot a shiver ran down his spine. It was the middle of winter and he was just wearing a shirt, sweats, and no shoes. So now he was either going to die of dehydration or hypothermia. Pretty lame, all things considered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witch just gave him a disgusting once over, and, okay, fair, since he could see her discarded shaw on the floor covered in what was definitely his vomit.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should probably warn you,” he said swaying forward, “that I am not prime virgin sacrifice material. I currently have a super hot alpha werewolf boyfriend and let me tell you the things we do in the bedroom are </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> holy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witch just rolled her eyes as she moved away from the door of the barn, coming closer to him. “Yes,” she said, her voice high and clear, “we are well aware that you are the Hale Alpha’s mate, it’s why we took you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles frowned. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not every sacrifice requires a virgin,” she said with a cruel smile, “this particular ritual requires the mate of the Alpha we’re trying to control.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles groaned, his head dropping to his chest. Of course as soon as he was in the clear of “virgin sacrifices” he waltzed right into “Alpha mate ritual” territory. Whatever stupid higher power ran his life must be having a real laugh right about now. He wanted to retort, pull some sarcastic remark out of thin air, because that’s what he was known for. He could annoy the worst of their enemies, in fact, one time he had annoyed a hunter so badly the guy had just let him go! He would never forget the incredulous looks on Derek and Scott’s faces when that happened, but right now his brain wasn’t quite cooperating. His head felt heavy, sluggish, and he was lucky he was even able to form a coherent thought, focusing most of his energy on what this ritual entailed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So if you control Derek,” Stiles said instead, trying to put the pieces together, “then you control the pack.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witch nodded. “A strong pack at that, one that has bred so many tales and legends, defeating all that dare enter their territory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles snorted a laugh. “Just so you know I’m probably like ninety-two percent of the reason this pack is still together and alive,” he said, closing his eyes, the pain in his wrist becoming unbearable, “so getting rid of me is going to really detract from that statement.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The witch just huffed and Stiles’ eyes snapped open as she grabbed his chin, jerking him forward. He felt his stomach lurch, but there was nothing left so he just groaned instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m surprised the Hale Alpha took a human mate of all people.” She sneered. “Humans are weak, just look at you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be fair,” Stiles said as he tried to take a deep breath, “I have the flu, so really, not at the top of my game at the moment.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shoved him away and he swayed uneasily on his feet, every muscle in his body protesting at the movement. He wanted to lay down and despite the overwhelming heat he was currently feeling there was a deep shiver that ran down his spine. Being kidnapped was one thing, but being kidnapped while sick was its own special kind of torture.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your friends better hurry up if they want to sacrifice me.” Stiles said after a moment. “I might not make it another hour.” The witch only scowled, but it didn’t stop Stiles from rambling on. “Doesn’t being sick disqualify me from rituals and sacrifices? Don’t you need a healthy body or some shit like that for it to really work?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will do just fine.” The witch said as she pulled a long blade out of her pocket, moving towards Stiles with an evil glint in her eye. More figures poured in over the threshold, starting to form a circle around where Stiles was placed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa,” Stiles said as he tried to move away, but someone else firmly held him still, “hey, let’s not get any ideas here…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>The witch dipped the knife below the collar of his shirt before slicing away at the material, the tip of the blade moving just above his skin. Two more witches began setting up candles in a circular pattern and all Stiles could do was watch miserably as his now tattered shirt was pulled from his torso, leaving him in only his sweatpants. He really hoped they wouldn’t have to murder him in the nude, that would just be embarrassing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is the mate ready?” Another, older, woman said as she stepped into the barn, eyes narrowing in on Stiles. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Almost, Mother.” The witch with the knife, the one who had been watching him, said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She ran the blade against his bicep before digging in. Stiles yelped in pain, jerking in his captive hold. The witch dipped her fingers into the fresh pool of blood bringing the crimson red to his stomach before she began to draw the Triskelion symbol on his chest. The older woman, the one called ‘Mother’ was in front of Stiles now, smiling brightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know,” Stiles managed to get out through gritted teeth, “Derek is the biggest Sourwolf on the planet. I don’t think you want to control him. Besides, have you met our pack? Let me tell you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>worst werewolves ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mother reached out, stroking her long nails against Stiles’ cheek, “It’s cute how you think you can talk your way out of this, human.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can’t blame a guy for trying.” Stiles tried for a laugh, but his body outright refused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The women around him began chanting and Stiles swore he saw the flames on the candles grow higher. He felt the blood mark on his chest begin to burn against his already sweltering skin and now he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> felt like he was going to die. It was like the bond between himself and Derek was being pulled to an excruciatingly painful degree. Stiles couldn’t stop the hot tears spilling from his eyes or the strangled scream that tore from his lips. He was just able to crack his eyes open, the chanting growing louder, Mother raising a particularly deadly looking dagger above her head when he heard the sound of salvation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was one of the loudest roars Stiles had ever heard and despite the unimaginable pain he was in he couldn’t stop the faintest of smiles from curling around his lips. The chanting was replaced by terrified screams as the wolves ripped through the coven, leaving none alive. Stiles sagged forward, still held up by his bound wrist, and somehow he found that stupid bucket before unceremoniously puking into it. He groaned as he felt sweat rolling down his forehead, the blood from his injured arm flowing down steadily. He felt something warm cup his cheeks, tilting his head up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stiles,” the voice was desperate and full of concern, “Stiles, stay with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“MmmnotgoinganywhereSourwolf.” He murmured as he tried to make his eyes focus, but his vision was a little hazy. Still, he could make out the grey-green eyes of the person he loved so much.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to get him to a hospital.” That sounded like Lydia.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that her royal highness, Queen Lydia?” Stiles asked as his arms fell to the side and he stumbled forward. Derek quickly caught him. Derek would always catch him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong with him?” Scott asked, and Stiles could hear the fear in his best friend’s voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s delirious.” Lydia responded and Stiles could see her perfectly bright red lips turned down into a deep frown. “Probably from the fever and whatever the witches were about to do to him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Scott,” Stiles said as he felt himself being scooped into Derek’s arms, “I totally barfed on the witch who kidnapped me,” Stiles thought he had pulled off a grin, but he wasn’t too sure, “cool, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very cool, Stiles.” Scott replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles frowned, because Scott’s voice was trembling in anger and worry, and wow, </span>
  <em>
    <span>rude</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he was trying to make his best friend laugh! He was fine! Totally fine! He could totally walk if Derek would let him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Put me down, Der,” Stiles whined as Derek just pulled him closer, doing the exact opposite of what he wanted, “I’m fine!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not fine.” Derek growled and even Stiles could feel how pissed off the Alpha was as he took off into the forest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Stiles pouted against Derek’s chest, arms wrapping around the wolf’s neck. He was vaguely aware that he would probably stain Derek’s shirt from his wound, but he highly doubted Derek cared at the moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t even go looking for trouble.” Stiles mumbled because he hadn’t! “She took me right from the loft. Hit me over the back of the head and everything, which was very rude considering I’m fucking sick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek held onto Stiles tighter and when Stiles looked up he could see a pained expression on the wolf’s face that he immediately wanted to kiss away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Derek said, and even in his delirious state Stiles could feel his heart shatter from how raw and vulnerable the two words sounded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Safe.” Stiles huffed out because now he was starting to lose consciousness. “I’m safe with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he woke up he could feel something warm pressed against his side and it took him quite a moment to realize that something was Derek. He blinked his eyes several times, not feeling like he wanted to die anymore, but also not feeling incredibly great either. He looked around the familiar setting of Beacon Hill’s hospital and wondered when his life had gotten so weird that he found some comfort in seeing the pastel blue flower wallpaper. He felt Derek’s arm tighten around his waist and Stiles smiled as he gently ran his fingers through the Alpha’s hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry.” Derek murmured into Stiles’ skin, sounding just as sad, just as raw as they had - Hours? Days? - ago.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Derek,” Stiles whined, “it’s not your fault.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek’s head snapped up so that he was looking Stiles right in the eye, the boy’s fingers startling out of the dark hair. “You’re my mate,” Derek growled, arm growing painfully tight around Stiles, “I’m supposed to protect you at all cost.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t protect me all the time.” Stiles sighed as he cupped Derek’s cheek, thumb tracing over his warm skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek grabbed his fingers, bringing them to his lips, gently kissing them. “Maybe things would be better if-”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No!” Stiles practically shouted, although it came out more strangled and broken than he wanted. “Don’t - don’t do that!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew Derek could hear how his heart was about to burst from his chest because the wolf shifted on the bed, wrapping his arms around Stiles, resting his head in the crook of his neck. Stiles held onto him, tears pricking the corners of his eyes. He had gone through hell and back, several times, but the thought of losing Derek was unbearable, especially if it was the man who pushed him away himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think I could if I tried.” Derek whispered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good,” Stiles said as he hastily wiped his eyes, “because you’re stuck with me, Sourwolf.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek only chuckled before playing a kiss against Stiles’ forehead. For a few moments they laid like that, wrapped in each other’s arms before Derek perked up slightly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What is it?” Stiles asked as he turned to face his boyfriend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek shook his head, smiling. “We have about ten seconds before the pack stampedes your room and fights to see who can take care of you first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If they catch mom and dad making out do you think we can buy ourselves a few more minutes alone?” Stiles asked with a large grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Derek just rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny Stiles as he leaned down, capturing his lips in a sweet kiss. Stiles only kissed back harder as he heard the sounds of his friends, his pack, groan at their overly eager display of affection.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Not really a rhyme or reason for this fic other than I just needed something else to work on to give me a break from some of my bigger fics I want to do. This was just a fun little piece I wanted to write based off the idea of Stiles being kidnapped while he was sick because, really, that's just his poor life. Also pack mom Stiles!!!! Let me know your thoughts!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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